Dear League Of Mental Men
I should like to add my voice to those of the people expressing shock and disbelief with regard to the recent rumours surrounding Sir Cliff Richard’s penchant for young boys.
I quite simply do not believe them, and indeed, can furnish you with a short anecdote which will add weight to my conviction.
About 30 years ago, as a teenager, I got terribly drunk at a party and stumbled out onto nearby Hampstead Heath. I then collapsed and lost conciousness. Upon waking in the early hours of the morning I found none other than the Peter Pan of Pop himself hastily pulling my trousers up, in an effort no doubt, to preserve my modesty and to prevent me from catching a chill. He then gave me £5.00 and told me the location of the nearest chemist in case I had a sore bottom. Were those the actions of a slavering paedophile?
Thanks Sir Cliff!